Deep Space
by newvagabond
Summary: Starscream/Megatron. Pre-series. Tactile, plug 'n play, non-sticky. There's really nothing else to do when you're floating in deep space...


**A/N: Starscream/Megatron. Pre-series. Tactile, plug 'n play, non-sticky, you know the drill.**

Heavily, undeniably inspired by BumbleSnee's art. I knew I wanted to try yet another take on this ship since I usually write it either rapey or just hatefuck. Also staying with my headcanon from Battery where Megatron enjoys filling a mech up with energy before he goes in for the kill.

Thanks for reading!

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The silence of deep-space travel was unbearable. The faint humming of computers understimulated the sensors and cycles of nothingness around them were enough to disturb any mech's processor. In his youth, Megatron might've appreciated the beautiful spatter of stars and planets in his view, but now it was a constant, unforgiving reminder that Cybertron was dead.

At least while the Decepticon cause was temporarily scattered, he had company. Starscream was committed and efficient, always checking routes and double-checking for any high frequency correspondence from allies. It was almost tedious. But what else was there to do?

Megatron took in his companion. Long, tapered fingers scratching rather than tapping over keys. Wings sweeping up sharply, tense in their angle. Hinges tight, backstrut plates scraping and well in need of a good oiling. Ridges cutting down sharply over a grievous yet vindictive gleam of red.

It was a Cybertronian still in mourning. Sorrow, frustration, vengeance. Just what he needed in his followers if he wanted to bring the Autobots down. But to see the usually poised and intelligent Seeker this way, rigid with fury, taut with grief...

"Starscream," Megatron vocalized suddenly from his seat.

The silver aerial had been deep in some impassioned memory of battle and stilled his servos over the control console. He awaited command from his lord, and pressed a few keys softly to be polite.

"Come here," Megatron continued.

To this Starscream's optics shuttered and he turned from the console, wings inclining a trifle in a show of subservience. "Master?" he asked, vocals obtrusive in the quiet of the ship. Sharp, heeled pedes sounded on the floor as he strode over and Megatron didn't miss the apprehensive quiver to his field. No doubt the commander thought he was in trouble.

Starscream knew better than to stand over his master and lowered onto one knee, gaze down. Megatron was amused, and his scarred lips twitched in the desire to grin but he kept his faceplate still.

"We have been traveling for quite some time," Megatron observed. Starscream's predictable reaction was to flinch ever so slightly and bow his helm.

"I still await a response from Soundwave, Lord Megatron." Starscream's excuse was valid, of course. But it was fun to watch the Seeker squirm. The Decepticon leader thought of another way to get that result that would prove a good way to pass the time.

Large, hinged claws came to rest on Starscream's shoulder. With just the right amount of pressure, the Seeker looked up, optics questioning. One look at the burn in Megatron's eyes and he understood, right wing giving a little twitch, mouthplate curving up.

"Ah, there's my Seeker," Megatron rumbled, tightening his grip and encouraging Starscream to settle closer between his legs.

The Seeker adjusted, now on both knees, and slid talons up large, grey leg plating. Sharp fingertips made little pinpricks of static tease at Megatron's thighs, and large servo hooked under Starscream's jaw. No suggestions were needed at this point. If Starscream was a gifted flyer on the field, then when it came to interfacing he was an exemplary partner.

"Master," the aerial murmured with static, rubbing the extended jut of his faceplate armor against the servo. He caught Megatron's gaze before opening his mouth and taking a thick, sharp finger in. Something about the risk of such an act always made Megatron's fans kick on immediately. One wrong move and Starscream's glossa could sever, and his intake would flood with his own energon.

The Decepticon lord growled in arousal, straining at Starscream's deliberately slow pace. It was always a game. The Seeker's mouthplate turned in a victorious little smirk as he took the finger deeper. Just when it seemed he would try to swallow it down, he released it, laving it with charged glossa, ventilations slow and controlled. The mech knew what he was doing. One wondered just where Starscream learned his tricks, and from whom.

Starscream let the hand go and rested his cheek against Megatron's leg, smiling almost mockingly. There was a lingering taste of energon on his receptors. Perhaps he wasn't as careful with the claw as he'd thought.

But Megatron knew when he was being taunted and was quick to grab his second in command. Talons wrapped around that perfectly cabled throat and he relished the little choke Starscream gave as he was lifted up. Sharp denta scraped against faceplate and the jet gave a sharp gasp of pain that melted into a moan. He was quick to lunge up, biting back. They fought for dominance and as usual Starscream ended up with a bleeding mouth. Such was Decepticon osculation.

Megatron chuckled his win, lapping at his partner's wound. "Not spent yet, are we?"

Starscream's field entwined with his master's eagerly and without a shred of modesty his interface panel covering popped open. His frame crackled and crimson optics locked.

"Turn around," Megatron commanded, giving his partner's chest a little scrape. Starscream knew the drill and turned, settling with his aft to the larger 'con's chassis. After Megatron plugged in, the jet reached back to complete the circuit, and found a servo snapped around his wrist.

The Seeker turned his helm in confusion. "You first, I think," Megatron vocalized with testing optics.

"You know I won't last," Starscream almost scoffed, freeing his hand forcefully.

"Why don't we find out?" A sharp grin.

Starscream swallowed another argument as well his pride, and settled back in again against Megatron. Thin, finely plated arms shifted back so that he could get a good grip on the large con's legs. He knew he was going to need something to hold on to.

After a deep ventilation and a nod from the other 'con, Megatron began his feed. It was a slow buzz to start and actually quite nice. The Seeker's wing panels fluttered in appreciation and he pushed his aft back just slightly. Megatron inclined his frame with his arms behind him for support, ready to watch Starscream's undoing.

He upped the charge just a few notches. Starscream's back plating began to shift with the building pleasure. Megatron let this continue for only another klik. His second in command was far too relaxed. And gladiators possessed a quality to their charge that wasn't to be wasted.

And so with a fiery gaze on his subject, his interface cable twitched with a surge as he cranked the power to maximum. Starscream's wings snapped up tight instantly, not quite the angry angle they displayed before. His back arched, plates shifted against each other, and finally he gasped.

"_Haa_," he ventilated, vocals reaching a husk that Megatron recognized. No doubt Starscream was trying his best to delay overload, and it was a sight the gladiator never got tired of. Before long, restrained ventilations turned to raspy panting. His whole frame clattered in a desperate attempt at control, pleasurable electricity filling his systems to the brim.

Even Megatron had to remain disciplined and remind himself to look, not to touch. Not yet, anyway. He had to wait for the right moment. As tempting as it was to dig into wiring when the Seeker was alight like this.

Starscream whined loudly and started to bend forward, still rattling like cans in a washing machine. "G-Going t-to—" he gasped, and Megatron knew the timing was right. He grabbed the cables at the jet's waist hard. So hard that the energon supply was cut off and Starscream reeled, overload vanishing within him.

"Not yet," Megatron growled, forcing Starscream back up against him. He continued to pump him full of energy, constricting those feeds, denying release. An ironic little twist that was sure to drive him crazy.

The maddening surge of being just on the edge made Starscream gasp in broken words. And then the begging began. Shrill, desperate pleas for release that would change any mech's view of the famous Seeker.

_"Please!"_

Megatron couldn't hold back a chuckle as it rose from his chest. Starscream was grinding his aft back against his chassis now in agony, still begging, repeating the word and knowing he'd hate himself later for such behavior. His squadron would laugh.

The friction he was building from his futile scraping was pleasurable indeed. Megatron allowed himself another few micro-kliks of watching that silver aft move against him, just asking to be fucked, before he decided enough was enough. With trained speed, he grabbed Starscream's cable and plugged in to his port. Pulling the Seeker back against him, he dug his claws hard enough into his waist to leave indentations and smashed their bodies together with practiced precision.

Energon rushed from the freed cables and Starscream's systems exploded instantly. He was rendered speechless, almost blinded by the searing heat inside that overflowed into a powerful surge of electricity into Megatron's frame. Though everything was fuzzy, the Seeker's audials recognized his master's roar.

It took well over two kliks for them both to regain their senses, limp, staring up at the blanket of stars in the ship's view. Starscream was first to speak.

"There is... a call..." he managed between ventilations.

Megatron shifted. Barely. Sure enough the computer was beeping. "Go answer it, then."

Starscream lifted his helm, looked at the console across the room, and then fell back onto Megatron.

He waved spindly fingers vaguely. "... They'll call again."

If Megatron hadn't been about to fall into recharge, he would've literally tossed Starscream at the console.


End file.
